


in which certain things are crossed out

by novacorps



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Begging, Choking, Desperation, F/F, Light BDSM, Mommy Kink, Mutual Pining, No proofreading we die like mne, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, all that good stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novacorps/pseuds/novacorps
Summary: Including, but not limited to, any discussion of feelings.





	in which certain things are crossed out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marblewomen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marblewomen/gifts).



> Gift fic for [natsharon](http://natsharon.tumblr.com) aka the patron saint of lesbians and femslash in the mcu fandom. Happy birthday, hope u enjoy 2k of your girls banging.

It’s just sex. 

That’s what Wanda had said to herself when Natasha had first approached her, in the aftermath of a training session. Her skin was dark with bruises and adrenaline was thrumming in her veins, leaving her antsy, red light sparking against her skin, her powers searching for some outlet. She was resigned to showering, and sleeping, and doing her very best to avoid the Vision (who had yet to grasp the concept of privacy, or knocking on doors) until Natasha had strolled up to her, and said, bold as brass, “So. You wanna blow off some steam?”

To which Wanda had replied, “What?” but then she had rudely been cut off by a pair of lips pressed to her own, and a body pressed up against her own, in broad view of anyone walking down the hallway, and her mind had promptly shut itself off in favor of kissing back. 

(There’s that niggling voice in the back of her head, the one that screams _this is wrong_ and _what would Father say_ and a hundred other things she’s repressed, but it’s hard to remember when Natasha does _that_ with her tongue.)

It’s just sex. At least, it started out that way. 

Now, Wanda’s not quite certain that’s what it is. 

She can ignore it though, especially when Natasha’s going down on her. 

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda hisses, at an especially pointed jab of Natasha’s tongue. Her hands are cuffed to the headboard, and every jerk cuts lines of fire into her wrists. She can already see the angry red marks that will be left behind, and the thought is enough to make her moan. 

“Language,” Natasha murmurs, amused lilt to her voice. Her face is buried in between Wanda’s thighs, scarlet curls the only thing visible. Her lips are hovering over Wanda’s overstimulated clit, brushing it with every word. “I don’t think I like a foul mouth on my little girl. Wouldn’t want a punishment, would you, baby?”

The words spark flames in Wanda, almost literally. She can feel the strange heat in her eyes that means they’ve turned that unsettling shade of red. “Fuck you.”

“I don’t think you’re ready to do that, but if you want to….”

A hand comes up, blunt fingernails digging into Wanda’s nipple and pinching. Her back arches off the bed, pressing her clit right against Natasha’s mouth. Then there's the sudden nip of teeth on her most sensitive parts, and a whole universe explodes behind Wanda’s eyes, bright red and blinding. 

She comes back to herself in increments, noticing first how harsh her breathing has become, how her eyes are still dark red and burning with unshed tears, how her hair is defying gravity and floating around her face, red tendrils of power swirling lazily. 

She notices Natasha last, the slick of her mouth and the smirk that tilts her lips, one side higher than the other. How she’s fully dressed, except for her gloves, covered in skintight black leather. She’s stroking Wanda’s thigh gently, brushing her thumb over and over again. 

“Alright?” 

Wanda nods. “I’m—good.”

Natasha leans over, wraps a strand of Wanda's hair around her finger. “Good.” The strand of hair becomes a fistful, and Natasha jerks her as far forward as the cuffs will let her, bringing their mouths together in a heated kiss. Wanda can taste herself on Natasha’s tongue and she sucks on it, moaning louder than she thought she would. 

Natasha breaks the kiss to laugh, replacing her tongue with two fingers that Wanda promptly begins sucking on. “Eager, aren’t you? It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” The words hit Wanda deeper than she thought they would, her eyes rolling back into her head, all the tension bleeding out of her.

Natasha jerks her fingers out of Wanda’s mouth and slides them down her chest, rounding a stiff nipple. “Liked the sound of that, baby?” she coos, running a finger up and down her lips, teasing Wanda open. She shudders. 

“Yes, Mommy,” she sighs, and then her brain catches up with her mouth and Wanda’s entire body freezes, except for her eyes which snap open. She’s not sure there’s enough blood in her body for her face to be turning this red and yet, the universe is surprising her. The humiliation coursing through her is perhaps the most powerful emotion she has ever felt. She can’t look at Natasha. She can’t not look at Natasha.

She looks at Natasha.

The expression on her face is hard to parse. Shock, maybe. The predatory hunger that sparks a thrill in Wanda’s stomach is blacker than usual. She looks like she wants to swallow Wanda alive, carve out her heart, spill scarlet onto the white sheets. 

Wanda would let her, is the thing. But she can't admit to that. Not yet. 

Natasha pulls her out of her reverie by tipping her face up with a finger. Wanda can’t turn away, bewitched by the look on Natasha’s face, that hunger, that thirst, so at odds with the gentle way she cards her fingers through Wanda’s hair, slow and repetitive. 

“Say that again, sweetie.” Her voice is so dark, throaty and desperate. 

Wanda shakes her head petulantly. The finger still tracing her pussy slips in suddenly, drawing a gasp out of her involuntarily. Natasha thrusts her finger in and out of Wanda mercilessly. The hand in Wanda’s hair traces her jaw, runs down her throat before wrapping around it, cutting off her air supply. 

Wanda goes to gasp, or moan, or scream because Natasha’s just added another two fingers at the same brutal pace and she’s so full, stretched open and wanting, but she finds she can’t, and instead of scaring her, the inferno inside her roars. She’s wetter than she’s been her entire life, her head spinning, black-red encroaching on the edges of her vision, and she just wants—needs—to come again, but Natasha lets her suck in a desperate breath and she whines.

“I—I—Natasha— _please_ —” 

Natasha clicks her tongue. “That’s not what you call me. You know what to say,  _ malysh. _ ” Her fingers curl inside Wanda, her thumb pressing down hard on her clit. “Don’t you want to come? Make Mommy happy?”

Wanda whimpers, eyes welling with tears. It’s humiliation and frustration and the black tangle of emotion inside her that she can’t handle, the culmination of this strange unnamed thing between her and Natasha, and she just wants to fucking come already— 

“Mommy,” she whispers, words caught in her throat. The dam breaks. “Mommy, please, I want—”

Natasha lowers her mouth to Wanda’s nipple, catching the tip between white teeth. Wanda moans helplessly. Natasha sucks for a moment, then speaks. 

“Want what?”

“You know….please, just—”

“I can't give you what you want if you don’t tell me what you want, baby. I’m not a mindreader. You want this, don’t you?” She punctuates the sentence with another curl of fingers. Wanda sobs. “Want everything I have to give you, right?”

“Yes,” Wanda says. “Yes, yes, please, yeah.”

“Then you’ve got to tell me what you want,  _ malysh _ . Just say it properly and I’ll make you feel good, alright? Just say it.”

“I can't, I can’t, I—” Wanda’s words are half-garbled sobs, barely comprehensible. Fuck, she never thought that calling someone Mommy would be enough to make her want to come, but here she is, with the Black Widow in between her legs, crying because she can’t say just fuck me already. 

Natasha silences her with a kiss, a brush of lips. “You can. You’re my girl, aren’t you? Stronger than everyone else. So pretty, so good. C’mon baby. C’mon.” There’s a note of desperation to all of Natasha’s words, and Wanda wonders what kind of thrill she’s getting from this, but she’s can’t think properly, not when she’s about to explode. 

“Fuck, Mommy, please, I just want to come, please, please, I need to come, fuck me, _fuck me,_ fuck—”

Natasha kisses her deeper, harder, stealing the very air from Wanda’s lungs. When she lets up, the smile on her face is deadly. 

“Good girl,” she says affectionately and Wanda _shudders_. 

Without further ado, Natasha strips off her suit, exposing pale skin and scars. Wanda leans forward, tries to get her hands on her, but the handcuff jerks her back and she whines. 

“Want to touch me?” Natasha asks, spreading Wanda’s legs as far as they’ll go. She settles herself between them again, the heat of her pressed against Wanda’s pussy. It’s enough to make her eyes roll in the back of her head and she mewls softly. In response, Natasha laughs. “Not yet.”

She spreads Wanda’s lips open, and begins to thrust. The too-hot, wet slide of her clit over Wanda’s is nothing new, but the feeling is indescribably good in ways Wanda never thought it could be. She throws her head back and moans, barely noticing the sparks of red crackling on her skin and on Natasha’s, the way the magic curls and coils through the air, undulating and spreading across the room. She’s only focused on the sensation of fingers pinching her nipples, tongue sliding into her mouth, cunt rocking against her cunt, and the filth she’s spewing, a never-ending stream of consciousness she can’t control. 

“Oh, fuck, _fuck,_ Mommy, yes like that, fuck, fuck me, please, _Mommy,_ want it,” and Natasha barks out a laugh, high-pitched and breathless, hand coming down to wrap around Wanda’s throat again, and the heady rush that comes with no air returns, wrapping Wanda in its fog. 

“God, baby, you look so good like this,” Natasha croons, slowing her thrusts and rolling her hips in a circle. “Should tie you up forever, sit on your face until you cry. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

Wanda would. She would like that, she’d love it, the thought alone is making her choke out a stuttered moan, but the fingers around her windpipe ensure that she can only make that one noise.  She does her best to snap her hips against Natasha’s properly, returning them to their previous pace instead. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get the idea,” Natasha murmurs, rolling her eyes. She begins to fuck Wanda in earnest, easing the pressure on Wanda’s throat to let her gasp in a few breaths. She rejects the sentiment instantly. 

“No, no, back, put them back, Mommy—”

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

Natasha chokes her out again, and again, and again, Wanda’s vision going dark red and black every time. She can’t think, _she can’t think,_ and the sensations are so overwhelming, so deep, all she can do is weep. 

When she finally comes, the windows shatter. Glass blows outwards in a flurry of curtain and noise. There’s shouting from outside, but Wanda can only arch her back, mouth open, eyes red and sightless, consumed in a haze of feeling. 

Natasha grasps her hips, slams into Wanda a few more times, and comes, teeth sunken into the side of Wanda’s throat, coming so close to drawing blood that Wanda feels a thrill run through her, even though she’s just come. 

She collapses on top of Wanda afterwards, face buried into her throat, and they just breathe, sweat-slick skin against sweat-slick skin. Wanda undoes the handcuffs with a mental flick of the wrist, letting her arms fall onto Natasha’s back. She runs a palm down Natasha’s spine, feeling the knobs of her spine and the irregularities of scars, breathing in the oddly sweet scent of her hair.

“So,” Natasha says, after an eternity. “Mommy, huh?”

Wanda’s face goes bright red again. “Shut up. You were into it as well.”

“Of course I was. Just didn’t expect you to be as well.” Natasha lifts her head a little. “You’re freakier than I gave you credit for.”

Wanda pushes at her shoulder. “Shut up,” she grumbles again. “What, are you complaining?”

Natasha laughs. “God, no. Just thinking that maybe I should escalate things next time. You reacted to gorgeously to being choked; can you blame me for being intrigued?”

Wanda raises an eyebrow incredulously. “Escalate things? Further?”

“So vanilla,” Natasha shakes her head. “So damn vanilla.”

“Well, then,” Wanda says. “Guess you’ll just have to teach me.”

They look at each other, straight-faced, then they burst into laughter. Wanda covers her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking, while Natasha muffles her giggles in Wanda’s throat. 

“You broke the fucking windows. Wanda, you broke the fucking windows.”

“Captain’s gonna kill me.” He really will. She can already feel his presence across the compound, headed steadily towards her bedroom. 

Natasha sits up, gorgeous in the afternoon light. She smiles at Wanda, half knowing-smirk, but there’s something gentle in it too, soft and affectionate. It twists Wanda up inside. She wants Natasha to look at her like that forever. 

“I’ll deal with him. Trust me.”

Wanda sits up as well, tugging the bed sheet over her body. “I do. You….know that, right?”

Natasha glances at her strangely from where she’s slipping back into her suit. “That so?”

“Wouldn’t let you handcuff me to a bed if I didn’t,” Wanda says blithely, hoping the way her heart hammers in her chest doesn’t show in her words. It’s too soon for that sort of escalation, the kind she’s been thinking of. She shrugs. “But you know, after all, it’s just sex.”

"Just sex," Natasha echoes. She zips her suit up and heads for the door. "I'll go handle Steve, make sure he thinks you aren't dying."

Just sex, Wanda repeats in her head. Just sex. 

She stands up, sheet wrapped around herself, and pretends that’s all this is.  

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr.](http://inshallahs.tumblr.com)


End file.
